


The Aroma of Coffee

by Ionaonie



Series: The Bond Files [8]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Angst and Humor, Bond is a menace, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 08:33:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/607863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ionaonie/pseuds/Ionaonie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘You were right,’ Tanner said, as he rushed in, worry etched across his face. ‘About Bond. He’s been taken. Everything that was GPS enabled, including the chip in his shoulder, was sitting in his hotel room when our team arrived.’</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Aroma of Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> Not betaed. If you see any mistakes, let me know.

‘You were right,’ Tanner said, as he rushed in, worry etched across his face. ‘About Bond. He’s been taken. Everything that was GPS enabled, including the chip in his shoulder, was sitting in his hotel room when our team arrived.’ 

Q nodded. He’d expected as much. ‘We’d better find him then.’ 

—

All in all it took Q, his team and the agents on the ground, seventeen hours to find Bond nearly a hundred miles east of where he’d started. 

Q had stood at the head of the room and directed the rescue team - that had then morphed into back-up when the situation on the ground made it clear that Bond had managed to escape and was causing his very own brand of mayhem - then waited until he’d heard Bond confirm he was all in one piece and then gone and collapsed the sofa in his office - Eve’s idea, and a life-saving one - and fallen into a coma. 

—

It was the aroma of coffee that eventually brought him round. 

He groaned into the crook of his elbow, just relieved that for once he hadn’t twisted in his sleep and didn’t have a crick in his neck. Those were never fun. 

Wait. Coffee. What?

Q started to roll over and would have fallen off the edge of the sofa if a hand hadn’t suddenly been pressed in between his shoulder blades, holding him in place. 

‘That might not be the best idea.’ 

‘B…Bond?’ Q asked around a yawn. He rubbed his eyes and shuffled back onto the sofa, missing the warmth of Bond’s hand almost immediately. 

‘In the flesh.’

He shook his head, trying to clear it. ‘How long have I been asleep?’

‘A while, as I understand it.’ 

All of a sudden Q’s brain kicked back into gear and caught up with earlier events and the fact that Bond was sitting in his darkened office. ‘James?’ Flailing, he sat up, stomach lurching wildly. ‘Uh, where are my -’ He trailed off as his glasses appeared in Bond’s hands. Although he was fairly certain that when he’d collapsed on the sofa he hadn’t bothered removing them.

‘Just how long have you been here?’ he asked, accepting his glasses. He felt slightly more composed as he slipped them onto his nose. Needing more light, he reached over and turned on the lamp. 

Bond flinched ever so slightly at the light, giving Q the time to look him over, see what shape he was in. There was an ugly looking gash on his temple, held together by steri-strips. He had a split lip and a couple of cuts on his cheek, not to mention some bruising. The way he was sitting suggested bruised or cracked ribs at the very least. 

‘See?’ said Bond, settling back in the chair, albeit somewhat gingerly. ‘All in one piece.’ 

‘Indeed,’ Q murmured. It wasn’t that he missed Bond not answering his question, more he just decided to let it go. ‘You actually went to medical?’ 

Bond scowled. ‘Didn’t have much choice.’

‘I expected, well. More, really. Considering how long you were missing.’ 

‘Their man had a penchant for electrocution.’ 

‘Ah,’ he said faintly. His stomach clenched and, for a moment, Q felt like he was going to be sick. 

‘Speaking of,’ Bond said, wincing ever so slightly as he made an abortive move to lean forward, ‘do we know who ‘they’ are?’ 

Forcing himself to focus on something other than the image of Bond having thousands of volts of electricity rampaging through his body, Q shook his head regretfully. Staring at the mug in Bond’s hand, he cocked his head. ‘Are you going to give me any of that coffee any time soon?’ 

Bond raised an eyebrow but handed over the mug without comment. 

Taking a sip, Q grimaced. He hated the taste but he needed the caffeine. 

‘Was it Quantum?’

‘Definitely not. Still quiet on that front, I’m afraid.’ He glanced up at Bond regretfully. ‘We’re still looking for them, though.’ 

Bond nodded grimly. ‘The Chinese?’ 

‘Unlikely.’

‘The North Koreans?’

‘Don’t have the necessary resources at this time.’

‘Rose?’ 

Q shook his head. ‘Nope.’

‘And we know this how?’ 

‘He’s dead.’

Bond shot him a skeptical look. ‘Are we sure?’

‘It happened while you were dead. And, yes, we’re sure. It was rather well documented.’

‘What happened?’ 

‘He fell down a well.’

Bond’s mouth dropped open a little and he looked about as flabbergasted as Q had ever bore witness. He took a moment to enjoy the fact that he’d actually managed to wrong-foot him. ‘What? Really?’ 

Q flashed him a tired grin. ‘No. It was an abandoned silo. But, same difference.’ 

‘A silo?’ 

‘It’s hard to find a well in the middle of a field in New Jersey.’

Bond stared at him for a long moment. ‘That sounds like it could be an interesting story.’

‘It has its moments,’ Q agreed. 

‘You can tell me about it later.’ 

Q grabbed his tablet from where he’d left it on the floor after facepalming onto the sofa. He flicked through a few screens. ‘We’re following some promising leads but nothing conclusive yet. We should know more soon.’ 

Bond steeped his fingers, staring into the distance thoughtfully.

Standing up, Q busied himself by grabbing his toiletries and a fresh pair of boxer briefs and a shirt from his desk drawer. Turning back around he found Bond watching him quietly. 

‘Aren’t you going home?’ 

Q shook his head. ‘Not much point. By the time I get there, it’d be time to come back here again.’ 

Taking a breath, Bond heaved himself to his feet. ‘Then I’d better go and give my report to M.’

He blinked in surprise. ‘You haven’t already done that?’ 

Bond shrugged stiffly. ‘I had one or two other things I had to do.’

‘More important than seeing M?’ Q couldn’t even begin to imagine what Bond could have deemed more important than giving his report. 

‘Yes.’ Bond paused in the doorway. ‘By the way, all your gadgets are on your desk. Unless the interns have tidied them away already.’ 

Q’s head jerked involuntarily, but by the time he looked up Bond had already disappeared. He could still move quick and silent despite the injuries. 

‘I need a shower before I become even more delusional,’ he muttered to himself. Because, to his sleep-addled mind, it sounded as though Bond had blown off his debrief with M to return the gadgets he never got to use and…and that couldn’t be right.

Walking past his desk, he saw all the gadgets piled there, not a single scratch on any of them, as promised by Bond. In fact, Q wondered if any of them had even made it out of the hotel room before Bond had been grabbed. 

He glanced around the room. ‘Matthews. Jetson.’ A couple of interns who were hanging around, trying to look busy and failing dismally, looked at him guiltily. 

He pointed at his desk, not feeling like cataloguing them himself. ‘Check they’re still in working order and put them away.’

On reflection, Q much preferred it when it was his toys that didn’t make it back in one piece.


End file.
